forward motion

I have been preaching the mantra of digging ditches for a while now. It’s a powerful idea that implores us to change our lives. In order to reimagine our life, we need to change our daily habits, and the only way to change them is by leaping forward and repeating over and over again, that, which does not come easy.

Digging ditches is never easy. It takes a lot of hustle. It is a calloused experience.

We need to break new ground, every single day.

No exception.

Our goal is not never to finish, but to simply get better. If, as a writer, you have written precious little over the last twenty years, but in the next few months, you manage to turn out a paragraph or two, you are making forward progress. If you quit shoving greasy food in your mouth, in the middle of a sweaty night, and only lose an ant’s fart of weight, you are still making forward progress.

Make forward progress.

I have learned recently, that there is no such thing as writer’s block. The concept is as ridiculous as imagining we ever face a hunger block. Every single one of the things we will face today is the truth, but we will perceive it, in a distorted manner, though our habitual illusions that we adapted along the way, for one reason, or another.

I believe in truth.

There are specific rules and laws that govern all creation. There are guidelines we must follow.

Our perception of those rules, laws, and guidelines is a little bit tricky.

Our direction finder is often dirty and malfunctions.

We are creatures. We are not the creator.

In this way, we are no different than the other members, big or microscopic, of our earthly family.

Dogs are a great example. They are always present.

They live an instinctually happy life. They live through the gut. They know how to be present. They know how to be happy and seek that same happiness in us.

We are nothing like them, or at least have stopped, ever since we were children.

We have stopped living, because we perceive ourselves to be in need or want of something. We think we are missing something. We are not the right weight. Don’t have enough money. Lack education. Yearn for advancement. Don’t have enough time.

We are missing the things we think will make us happy.

We experience writer’s blocks, relationship blocks, fears, anxiety, disorders, phobias, and a myriad of other reasons why we can’t and shouldn’t be happy.

Yet, our furry companions, who never assess the market value of their cave, are always excited when we get home. They wag and jump. They pee with glee.

They do this when we return from a long day of work, or if we return after the briefest of hours. Hell, sometimes, they get super silly, simply because we have re-entered the room.

I started writing this about a half an hour ago. I had no earthly thought in my head and no idea of direction. I simply decided to dig a ditch. One painful word after another. One sentence, thrown on the next.

I need to carry this insight and apply it to every single part of my life.

It is time to begin again.

We not be happy?

Be happy in perpetual forward motion.

What if it’s true.

We don’t need anything to be happy.

We just have to realize life has entered the room.

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